


To Tell Its Slumbers and To Paint Its Dreams

by Tibby



Category: Amazing Grace (2006)
Genre: M/M, Schmoop, Tiny Little Thing, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibby/pseuds/Tibby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A summer morning in Wembley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Tell Its Slumbers and To Paint Its Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fabrisse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/gifts).



"Tomorrow. Today is tomorrow. That is, I mean to say..."

No, there is no reason to fight sense out of the bleary exclamation. No one is listening, although, for once, there is someone present to listen. Pitt puts a hand through his cropped short hair and winces. It is not in response to the previous night's excesses, as he is more than used to drink. It is the mere state of not being alone. He has always woken to the doubts but, before now, he has been able to face them himself and put them away where no one can see. Before, he was not First Lord of the Treasury. Before, he had told himself that he knew the right way to go about things.

"I like it here, Will," he says, breathing out all at once.

There is sun pouring through the window, lapping against the white bedclothes, and Pitt watches with a hypnotised gaze as William's long fingers curl and uncurl in the glare.

Someone knocks at the door. It rouses William from his sleep but only momentarily, only long enough for him to reach an arm around Pitt and pull him downwards. Pitt is held against William's chest. He can feel the rhythms of their separate breaths against each other - his quick, William's slow. With concentration, he slows his breathing, aligns it with William's. Tentatively, then, he holds William's waist.

"Are you awake now?" he murmurs.

There is no answer. Whoever was knocking at the door has conceded defeat and left. Instead, a tiny sparrow's beak taps once, twice on the window pane. Pitt watches it hop from the sill to the leafy branches that spike against the blue sky.

"Sleep," says Pitt, "Sleep through this beautiful day."

It is most unlike William to obey an instruction so wholly contradictory to his nature. But obey he does, and Pitt is gladder than he could have imagined.


End file.
